


A man who plays death

by 3_40AM



Series: TF2 [1]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: AU, Gen, Gore, Headcanon galore, Heavy is too kind for his own good, Im gunna have fun with this, Kinda, M/M, Medic loves Heavy, Memory Loss, They have real names but Medic forgot his, Violence, duh - Freeform, maybe? - Freeform, more tags to add, plot?, questionable stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-09 22:39:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18647533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3_40AM/pseuds/3_40AM
Summary: Heavy has strange experiences with a man who seems to be death.





	A man who plays death

**Author's Note:**

> Aha my first TF2 fic ;;;;  
> I mostly write about Don't Starve so this i new to me, I hope this is good anyways
> 
> Sorry for any OOC stuff but then again this is an AU and somethings kinda change.  
> AU based of my brain, may draw for this is I end up liking it a lot.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A demon who stares for too long is bound to be seen, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello ! I have written Don't starve fics pretty much ever since I joined, so this is something new !
> 
> I love TF2, but my stuff can be OOC, sorry for that, also sorry if some German is off (in the future I will be using German), please feel free to correct !
> 
> This is an AU I made one day when I was thinking about how cool it would be for Medic to be a demon ! There is plot here but will only continue the story if people like this !  
> Let me know !

Sticky, wet, slimy. All things Mikhail wasn't all that fond of. Chopping meat to sell to people in his town was his occupation, as well as others he worked with. The job paid well and kept his family in good shape, so he had no need to complain. Butchering pigs couldn't hurt him.

Today Mikhail is supposed to die. Death by the wheels of a drunk, Mikhail would leave his family in grief. However, he managed to survive his day perfectly well. No drunk had come near him in a vehicle, as said person had seemingly crashed elsewhere in the small town. A miracle, he could call it if he knew. Little did he know, their was a reason he lived, a being's responsibility.   
  
Death, or _Medic_ , as he preferred to be called, was never interested in who he'd be taking the lives of. He had taken some of the job of Satan, taking lives as they were listed and sending them to the familiar office. His blue counterpart took care of God's deed, but this isn't about him.   
  
However, Medic found himself halted in his work when he saw his prey. A large man who lived in Russia, bald and buff, lifting meat around like they were only books. The man looked normal size until Medic would stand near him unnoticed, only then would he tower over his smaller frame. It was easy to examine this man as an invisible being, watching him tear through animal flesh, remove organs and other horrific innards that Medic loved so much. Mikhail would be followed out of the room, watched as he threw the bundle of 'goods' in a large container. He turned, wiping his hands on his bloody apron. Medic's ghastly gray eyes followed those hands, in awe at the bloody mess they could make. It was almost familiar to him...

 

And Mikhail was staring. The strange man standing in the doorway, staring back at him. It was when Mikhail had froze Medic realized something was off. Bright blue eyes met his own, and he blinked.  He swallowed, then shifted, testing himself in the doorway. Those blue eyes followed, and he suddenly felt self conscious.

 

"Извините меня?" Heavy grasped for a towelette that hung on a rack nearby, preparing to explain that outsiders weren't allowed in this room. Though the man didn't answer, so he looked back up. The man was looking around now, seemingly ignored him.

 

"Эй?"

 

The man looked up and shook his head. So he couldn't understand him, perhaps he was a traveler, or a tourist. What a tourist would be doing in a forgettable town like this was beyond him but you never know. He cleared his throat and tried again differently," English?"

 

The man nodded, having yet to have spoken. English it was, Mikhail wasn't very good at English, but people could understand him at least.

 

"Can not be here, off limits to public." He cursed himself for his voice being so raspy, but the stranger seemed to be listening. He looked around once again, almost like he was lost. Mikhail tilted his head, long since left the towelette on the counter. He stepped closer slowly,"You are fine? Not lost?"

 

The man was quick to notice the movement, but stay put. He searched for the words, having been...who knows since he's had to use English himself, speaking mostly German. What would his answer be? He wasn't even supposed to be seen by the living, as Satan had told him. But here he was, standing in front of a mortal who very well could see him.

 

"I.. may be lost.." He spoke softly, watching the bear of a man's face. Mikhail nodded and sighed, straightening his back and gesturing to the door. Medic followed his movements, internally panicking. He was visible, could he still transport to and from Hell?? Could he still work?? Maybe Satan knew about his purposeful failure to kill the large Russian behind him. He felt the stress in his stomache, and just as he was out the alley door he spun on his heel and looked at Mikhail, out of his trance.

 

"I don't know vhere to go!" Mikhail paused, brows drawn together in confusion."You go home, you have one, yes?"

 

Medic shook his head. Great.

 

Mikhail looked around again. The man didn't look homeless, fashioned neatly in a long white coat that reached this his mid shin, a tie peeking from the folds of the coat, clean leather boots snug to the mans legs. Even his hair was nice, gelled back cleanly save for the cow lick the was stationed on his forehead, round glasses resting on his nose. Mikhail only now noticed how grey the man's eyes were, but he shook away that thought.  
  
"Where you from? Not homeless so must have home." Medic thought for a moment, couldn't possibly tell this man he was from Hell, but he was well aware that in his living life, he was from somewhere."Germany."

 

Mikhail raised a brow,"Germany? You traveled?" Medic nodded, he suppose he did. "You have..uh, stuff at all?" Medic quickly corrected him,"Luggage, and no.."

 

By now Mikhail was standing outside with the man instead of hiding behind the door, "You come with no 'luggage', you don't know if you stay or where you stay...How you get here then?" The man shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck with a gloved hand. Mikhail sighed, perhaps the man forgot things. What was he supposed to do in a situation like this, with a man trembling from the cold in front of him, no home or things as far as he knew. He gave the man a good look over before continuing," You have name?"

 

This stumped Medic, much like the rest. For as long as he worked for Satan, he had never had a name. He was always known as Death, or referred to himself as 'Medic'. He gazed around, wracking his brain to try to think up anything.

 

"You don't know either.."

 

It was embarassing, Medic thought, how little he actually knew about himself. Standing in the judging gaze of the Russian made it almost unbearable for him, wishing he could just vanish and be invisible again. Wish ungranted, Mikhail stepped aside, gesturing for the smaller to return inside the building. 

Doing as requested, Medic was lead to a much cleaner room. The room seemed like a lounging room, odd for a butcher shop but it was clean and usable, not that bloody messes bothered the demon. The German was seated and told to wait, where he was left to think about everything so far when Mikhail left the room.

 

Where could he even start? The fact that he's no longer invisible to the living, which should be impossible? The fact that he knew and knows nothing about himself and has no clue how to function with the living again? Maybe even the fact that he had gotten himself into this mess by not killing the man. He shook his head, mentally slapping himself for being mesmerized by the hunk of walked flesh. What did he even like about him?? He was so familiar, so <em>lovable </em> but the medic hadn't a clue why.

 

He wouldn't either, as the Russian' s voice could be heard from somewhere in the hall. Medic had no clue how to speak or understand Russian, so it was beyond him what was being said. 

 

_He's probably getting someone else.._

The thought dragged Medic down. The idea of interacting with others made him anxious. There wasn't much sulking left when Mikhail entered the room again and set a cup of water out for the strange man, large arms crossing over his chest by default. 

"We are not big town, so not much company. You can work, yes?"

Medic nodded, not really bothered to touch the drink in front of him. He could work depending on what the work _was_ , but honestly, it seemed both men were tired and just wanted things over with. Medic nodded.

Mikhail shifted his weight and continued, "What can you do?"

Well shit. As smart as Medic was, he didn't think he'd have to _say_ what he could do. Like much else, he's only ever _killed_ people. Not much else from that besides.. ah,yes.

"I am a doctor."

He felt almost proud saying it, although pride crumbles easy when the listening party raises their brows as if they were told a fantastic story. He fiddle with the cup of water, suddenly feeling very aware that he was indeed thirsty. This man captured his attention,yes,but the giant also made him nervous. Not necessarily from his size or the fact he could rip him to shreds easily, but his eyes bore into him, his reactions ran him dry, a man seeking honesty. Medic sipped at his water as silence filled the room, bringing awkwardness with it. Medic found himself in thought again, looking around the room. 

"So.. what should we do about your name? You do not have things... oh, family?"

Again, Medic shook his head,"I do not have family." Heavy shoukders dropped again for what felt like the 100th time. He seemed almost fed up with the newcomer, and it wasnt easing Medic at all.

"I-i know I go by 'Medic', however.."

Mikhail nodded, checking the clock on the wall behind Medic,"Not a name but will do for time being. You will remember real name and you will return home."

Medic couldn't help but to chuckle, finding the seriousness of the situation slightly amusing. Mikhail didn't seem to agree on this, staring at the giggling fool like he said something crazy. Medic met his eyes and his giggles of amusement changed to those of nervousness,"Ach, I don't mean to seem rude, I am just laughing at zhis situation."

"It is funny to you?"

Medic gulped,but kept his grin,"Ja. It must be razher interesting to find a man in your work space, no idea vhere he is, and has no memory of how or vhy he's here."

"Like old man."

Well alright, that could be said. Medic chuckled softly, while not being all too old, he hoped, it did seem as he was an old man in this, forgetting everything and needing guidance from strangers.

"Ja, I suppose so." Medic looked back up to Heavy, barely catching a smile on his once serious face before he moved to the door. Medic turned and watched,confused until Mikhail motioned for him to follow. Medic blinked, grabbing the cup and discarding the plastic in the trash nearby before speed walking after the Russian. Said man was removing his apron now, raising his hand to halt the German before entering the room the two met first. There were voices, again, all said in Russian. Medic kept his gaze to his feet,hands in the pockets of his cotton coat.

The door swung and out came the Russian, now cozy in a large coat and hat, along with mittens. He began down the hall to the entrance, and of course, Medic followed, curious as to what was going on. Stepping into the crunchy snow below their feet, the two men began walking.Medic couldn't help but to wonder...

"So, uh, do you have a name?"

The Russian peeked back, then nodded,"Da,I am Mikhail." Medic repeated the phrasing to himself silently. Mikhail continued to speak,"You are doctor, one that heals the sick?"

Medic, now with his gloved hands in his puts, shivering, nodded,"More or less, I don't _heal_ , but I do _treat_ patients of illnesses."

The bear snorted,"Same thing." And the two carried on for a but longer in silence. Medic didn't like that they were wandering in an open forest at this point, the cold already bothering him enough. "Herr Mikhail, vhere is it ve are going??" 

"Herr?? And we are going to my home, where you will stay for shelter in return of helping my sister." Medic hadn't quite agreed to a deal, but he had no where else, so he didn't speak up on it,"Herr is sir, and your sister? Is she ill?"

Heavy nodded, sadness entering his voice,"Da, has been very sick and I do not know how to help her. You can help, yes?" He stopped, looking at the nearly frozen doctor with an emotional stare. Medic paused with him, noting the look in Mikhail's eyes. He nodded,"Of course, I vill help in anyvay I can."

In a mere second, Mikhail went from emotional to a booming smile, giving Medic's back a good whap of a hand that nearly knock the poor man over before turning and continuing their trek,"Good! We will be good friends, you help my sister!" The man's laugh echoed in their surroundings, and was almost contagious as Medic chuckled with him after recovering from the unintentionally hard back pat. 

Eventually,however, the two reached a large cottage, distances from the town. Mikhail opened the door, stomping his feet on the wooden steps before pushing inside. Medic followed as best he could, wiping snow from his boots and hurringly waddled into the warmth. He almost wanted to sigh verbally with how much warmer the cottage was, his fingers and feet numb from the walk. Mikhail was standing nearby, his coat,boots and hat discarded and hung up over a mat by the front doorway. Medic began peeling his own coat from himself, revealing a white dress shirt, red tie, and a black vest, along with red socks when he removed his boots. 

After following Mikhail through the hallways, he was let loose to dart to the fire place, where he nearly dove his hands directly into the fire if not reminding himself that he could be affected by these things. Mikhail watched, chuckling softly at how the German reacted to the cold he was so used to,"You will be nice and warm here, we have extra room upstairs for guest, where you can stay. I will bring extra covers for you to sleep." 

Medic nodded gratefully, his hands now thawed and feeling again,"Zhank you, Herr Mik-"

as he turned, he was not only greeted by Mikhail, but now by two large women who glared menacingly from behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will probably draw art for this haha


End file.
